


Second Impressions

by jenny_wren



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Female Harry Potter, Gen, Rule 63, Sirius Black Raises Harry Potter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-30
Updated: 2021-01-30
Packaged: 2021-03-16 06:40:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29078010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jenny_wren/pseuds/jenny_wren
Summary: On Halloween of their first year, Harri Potter and Hermione Granger both get a chance to make a second impression
Comments: 2
Kudos: 67





	Second Impressions

**Author's Note:**

> It suddenly struck me if Harry Potter was born a girl, Voldemort would have never considered her his equal in the Prophecy and poor Neville would have drawn that particular short straw, so their first year would have been a bit different

“It’s no wonder no one can stand her. She’s a nightmare honestly.”

Harri shriveled with sympathetic embarrassment as she watched Hermione Granger burst into tears and run away. How could the girl have so little control as to give way in front of people like that? How would she ever have the discipline to really use her magic if a simple comment, and from a Weasley at that, could derail her so completely. Harri would rather, well actually she wouldn’t rather die, but thought of her god-father finding out she’d lost control like that…

Sirius probably wouldn’t even be mad, because he never got mad, but he’d be sympathetic and understanding, tell her she was only eleven and she had plenty of time to learn but Harri would know he was disappointed in her and want the floor to open right up and swallow her – the floor had actually done that once but Harri was only six at the time, she was eleven now and at Hogwarts, a young lady.

And a young lady would never burst into tears and run away like the Granger girl did. Most everyone else was as embarrassed for her as Harri and doing their best to ignore her display. It was all they could do for her really. Draco did catch her eye and roll his, clearly saying _Muggle-borns, what can you do_ and Harri couldn’t even glare back because how could she defend it. How could you control your magic if you couldn’t even control yourself.

But when Granger still hadn’t showed up after classes finished, Harri decided enough was enough. She knew the poor girl was probably horribly shamed but you didn’t solve that sort of thing by hiding away and making even more of an issue over it. And she was a muggle-born anyway, nobody expected them to be perfect right off bat, brought up all shimble-shambles like they were.

Harri twitched her robe into place and knocked sharply on the bathroom door, “Granger come out of there right now.”

“No. Go away.”

“If that’s how you want it.” Drawing her wand, Harri tapped the door twice and it flew open. Granger was huddled up by the sinks, all wild hair and red eyes. Harri cringed,

“Honestly Granger, you are such an embarrassment.”

“Why do you even care?” the girl snarled back.

“Well there’s a certain amount of house pride at stake. And you’re letting the other Muggle-borns down. You keep acting like this, and Draco will never shut up about it.”

“Why would I care about that stuck-up pureblood thinks?”

Harri glared. Draco was _hers_. He was going to be her right hand and champion when they were grown-ups. Right now her god-father was her champion, obviously, but when she was Lady Black it was going to be Draco. He would stand against her enemies and it was her job to give him her protection and not let horrible jumped up muggle-borns sneer at him. She nearly snapped back but remembered in time that she was a young lady now. She took a deep breath and drew on her god-father’s most imperious manner,

“Draco Malfoy is of excellent family, meets his obligations and honors his allegiances. I’d be careful how you speak of him, rootless and friendless as you are.”

Granger burst into fresh tears, “You’re a vain, snobby, muggle-hating, dark-blood princess – just like Ron said you were.”

The hurt at such a personal attack – she already knew Granger didn’t like her but that was mean – was mostly covered over by the sheer ridiculousness of the last statement. It wasn’t as if the Weasleys were any kind of role model. They claimed to support Muggle-borns and then Ron Weasley said all those things about Granger. Harri would never let anyone say those things about her people, let alone say them _herself_. She stared at the girl, genuinely stumped,

“I really have no idea why you’re listening to Weasley of all people, Granger.”

“Why not. It’s not like you even call me by my name,” snarled Granger, and sobbed harder.

Muggles were so over-emotional, no wonder they didn’t have magic. If they did they’d have destroyed the world by now.

“Of course I don’t,” said Harri, “it’s not like you ever gave me permission or anything.” She could hear temper creep into her voice on the last few words and hastily took another few deep breaths. She was not going to let her composure be overset in public.

“What?” Granger thankfully stopped crying and looked at her, eyes wide and wet, “I have to give you permission. That’s stupid.”

“No it’s not.” Harri stared back at her feeling equally wide-eyed and startled. “I would never disrespect anybody by calling them by their first name without permission.” Some people thought you shouldn’t need permission in the case of muggle-borns but that was just wrong.

“Is that why you said we could call you just Harri and there was no need to call you Lady Harri like you did that first evening?”

“Yes,” said Harri. They were her dorm mates after all. It was only right they call her by her first name. Lavender and Parvati had immediately replied that she could use their first names too.

Granger, however, hadn’t. She had just sniffed, turned up her nose, and turned away.

Harri had to try very hard not to feel hurt by the snub. It was Granger’s choice how she was addressed and if she didn’t want to be on friendly terms with Harri that was just fine.

A small squeaking sound dragged her attention back to the girl in front of her.

“Oh,” said Granger, one hand pressed to her mouth. “You mean…” She sniffled and wiped at her eyes. “Will you call me Hermione, please.”

“Of course. It’s lovely to meet you Hermione.” Harri held out her hand and Hermione shook it gingerly.

“Thank you. It’s lovely to meet you to H-Harri,” she faltered a bit on the name but otherwise was unexceptional.

“Much better,” said Harri. “You shouldn’t let somebody like Weasley get to you. He has no manners to speak of.”

“At least he doesn’t hate me because I’m a muggle-born.”

“But that’s exactly why he hated you showing him up, because you’re a muggle-born. You shouldn’t be as good as you are. And really, except for the mess you made today, you’ve been quite controlled for a muggle-born. If only you didn’t push yourself forward all the time. Why do you do that?” Harri asked, having long been curious about the issue.

“I don’t push myself forwards.”

“You’re always raising your hand in class, as if no one else knows the answer, and you’re always writing essays that are too long as if you know more than anyone else.”

“But – Ron and Neville never know the answers.”

“Well if you’re going to measure yourself against the Weasel, there’s no hope for you. Longbottom, his grandmother kept him out of society and away from magic because of the boy-who-lived thing. It always made my god-father mad, but there wasn’t anything he could do. It’s not Longbottom’s fault, but he’s so far behind.”

Hermione blinked, “You mean, whenever I raise my hand, you know the answer too.”

“Of course.” Harri studied hard, she wasn’t about to let her god-father down.

“And Malfoy, and Greengrass, and all the rest of them, they know too.”

“I would assume so. Draco definitely does. We know the answer when the Professor calls on us, don’t we?” Did Hermione really think all of Hogwarts was stupid. Harri felt she should be bristling with outrage, but it was such a silly thing to think she mostly wanted to laugh.

“Oh.” Hermione flushed.

“It’s okay,” said Harri. “Everybody understands you’re a muggle-born.”

Hermione stuck her chin out, exactly like Draco did if someone insulted his father, “That doesn’t mean I’m less than you.”

“Yes but you’re still behind. Like Longbottom.”

“Did you have magic lessons before you came to Hogwarts?”

“Of course I did.”

“But that’s not fair.”

Harri shrugged her shoulders. “Dumbledore made it a rule nobody could speak to muggle-borns before they’ve started at Hogwarts. He said it was interfering. My god-father says it’s a stupid discriminatory law but he can’t get the votes to change it.”

Hermione sniffled.

“Please don’t start crying again.”

“No, it’s just, if we weren’t here, muggle-borns I mean, you’d be doing more advanced work, wouldn’t you?”

“Yes. They changed the Hogwarts curriculum just before my god-father started Hogwarts. He already knew everything right up to fourth year and he was so bored. That’s why I haven’t done anything too advanced yet. He taught me Sigils and Hex Craft and Galdr instead.”

“I don’t even know what that is,” wailed Hermione.

“Well if you’re interested I can show you. Muggle-borns mostly don’t seem to care about them. Which is a shame. Galdr’s the best.”

“I’m sorry,” said Hermione, “I didn’t know. I would love you to show me other forms of magic. Please.”

Harri beamed. None of the Gryffindors had seemed all that interested in magic beyond the classroom. Even Dean Thomas, who would be amazing at Sigils the way he was always sketching something, wasn’t interested when she asked him about it.

“This will be great,” said Harri. She bounced a little with excitement, “You should come sit with me at the Slytherin table tonight. We’re going to do a scrying ritual later. Even those with no gift can divine on Halloween.”

“But I’m a muggle-born.”

“And?”

“And the Slytherins hate muggle-borns.”

“Not if you’re going to behave respectably.” Harri flicked her wand a couple of times to encourage Hermione’s appearance back into smartness. “And well, I know today was a bit of a slip, but it was Weasley after all. Draco can’t say too much because Weasley drives him right up the wall too. Now Weasley’d have a hard time at the Slytherin table,” she grinned at the thought.

Hermione took several deliberately deep breaths and rubbed at her eyes.

“Alright then,” she said. “I’ll come and sit with you,” and then added, “Harri,” as if checking she could still use the name.

“Brilliant, come on,” Harri grabbed her hand and towed her out the room.

  
  


Their Halloween plans were somewhat interrupted when a troll turned out to be lose in the school. And when Harri called her god-father – because that was the most important rule, always call for help if things got dangerous – the first thing Sirius did when he arrived was agree it was absolutely right that Draco and his Slytherin friends stay in the Great Hall rather than risking the dungeons and an encounter with the troll, and the second thing he did was sniff the air and follow the scent to the collapsed Professor Quirrell and demand,

“Who is this rag-bag of old clothes and why the hell is he putrid with dark magic?”

Things became quite exciting after that.

  
  



End file.
